


The Highest High

by Dormchi



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Angst, Day drinking, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Relationship, a little smut, more smut to come
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 18:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11606523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: A continuation of my head canon about how Joseph and Robert got into their relationship that went sour. This one gets a little hot and heavy.





	The Highest High

**Author's Note:**

> I felt weird leaving my head canon The Lowest Low as it was, mostly because I wanted to write Joseph and Robert doing stuff together and then getting hot and heavy. This doesn't have main event stuff in it, but stay tuned for that. Also, I switched from past tense to present tense for this one because it felt better to write in. Sorry if that's weird.
> 
> Joseph wakes up in Robert's bed and is still possessed, but doesn't really know it and he's not really understanding why his marriage failed so badly. So Robert is there to make him feel a tiny bit better.
> 
> Also, I know I don't have to tell anyone this, but take it easy on Mary. She's painted pretty bad in this, but it's not really her fault that her husband is possessed by something evil. She's just trying to hold it together as best she can.

_“You walk around acting like you’re such a fucking saint! Nobody in this neighborhood knows the real you, Joseph, and if they did, they’d want to burn you at the stake!”_

_Joseph doesn’t know what that means. He’s always the real him -- the devoted father and husband, trying to do right by his family and live as close to God’s word as he can._

_“Get out and don’t come back!”_

_“Mary, I…”_

_“GET. OUT.”_

Joseph wakes with a sharp breath, every muscle in his body tight, and relaxes with a groan. His head feels like it was run over by a truck and his mouth tastes like he spent all night licking the inside of a public bathroom. There’s a pleasant smell coming from somewhere near him, leather and cologne and whiskey, but he’s in too much pain to properly enjoy it. It takes him who knows how long just to open his eyes, blearily staring at the same spot on the wall until his vision clears up.

Hmm. That’s not the wall of his bedroom or any bedroom in his house. That’s not a wall he recognizes at all.

Behind him, someone shifts and exhales a warm breath. It ghosts across the back of Joseph’s neck, making him shiver.

 _What happened last night?_ Joseph wonders, feeling sort of proud of himself for not immediately panicking. He doesn’t know why, but something in him says that this isn’t a dangerous place that he’s in. Now if he could just figure out what this place is.

Trying to be as low key as possible, Joseph slowly turns over onto his back so he can see who he’s sharing a bed with. Robert’s sleeping face is only inches from his, one of his arms tucked under the pillow and the other resting over his stomach. Usually he looks gruff and unapproachable, and if Joseph is honest that much hasn’t really changed, but there’s a certain sense of reluctant peacefulness about the man when he’s asleep.

He’s maybe even handsome like this.

Joseph closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. So, he’s got two options, as far he can deduce with a pounding headache. Option A, he can try to sneak out without waking Robert and when they see each other again down the road, they’ll just pretend that this never happened. Option B, he can wake Robert up, deal with the awkwardness, and let the man know he’s leaving.

“Your thoughts are so damn loud,” Robert grumbles, cracking one eye open.

It feels like all the blood in Joseph’s body rushes to his face and he imagines he must look like a deer in the headlights, but he doesn’t really know what to say. _I’m sorry that I woke you_ sounds a little stupid and _Did we…?_ sounds even worse.

“Water and aspirin?” Joseph asks, following up with a forced smile. Smooth.

Robert stares at him for a moment, then points towards a door across the room. “Bathroom.”

Joseph doesn’t hesitate, he climbs out of bed and heads straight to the bathroom. He finds a bottle of Advil in the medicine cabinet and shakes out four red pills into his hand. There are multiple orange prescription bottles lining the counter that Joseph ignores as he turns on the tap, pops all four pills onto his tongue, and scoops water into his mouth to wash them down. As an afterthought, he grabs the bottle of mouthwash next to the sink and swishes a big mouthful of it around for a minute to get the disgusting taste out of his mouth.

When he’s done, he turns off the water and looks at himself in the mirror. The puffy bags under his eyes make him look like he’s ten years older than he actually is and his eyes are so red and dry that he looks like he spent the night crying. His hair is a disheveled, unholy mess and there’s a bruise peeking out from his hairline where Mary nailed him with a wine glass from across the room. That woman has a hell of an arm. He’s just glad that he bought shatterproof wine glasses after the first couple incidents.

It’s not a good look for him.

He has no idea what happened after his fight with Mary and his arrival at Jim and Kim’s. Bits and pieces of the night are coming back to him, but nothing that would explain why he woke up in Robert Small’s bed. He’s not an idiot. He knows what waking up after a night of sex feels like and this isn’t it.

Wait a second. Joseph looks down and he’s wearing just his dark blue briefs. That’s a little weird, he thinks, as if everything about this situation isn’t weird.

“Where are my pants?” Joseph wonders out loud.

He wanders back into the bedroom, running his fingers through his hair to try to tame it into something semi-presentable. Robert looks like he’s fast asleep again, his soft snores permeating the otherwise quiet room. Joseph spots his khakis at the end of the bed, left there in a pile underneath what he thinks must be Robert’s jeans. He picks them up and fishes his phone out of his pocket, expecting to find a few angry text messages from a drunk Mary and then one that says he should come home so they can talk about this.

There’s only one text.

_My lawyer will draw up the papers today. I expect you to only come here to sign them once they’re ready. After that, you’re not welcome here anymore._

Joseph’s chest immediately starts to ache and his head throbs furiously. It feels like all the air was sucked out of the room. After all of the blood, sweat, and tears he put into making a good life for Mary and the children, it’s all going to end over one stupid fight. Well, not just one stupid fight. Countless stupid fights that have made them hate each more and more other over the past few years and made every day feel like a ticking time bomb. This just happened to be the one that tipped their relationship over the cliff.

Joseph feels exhausted and broken and ready to give up.

“Bad news, Pretty Boy?” Robert asks, startling Joseph out of his tailspin. The man is sitting up in bed, bare chested with the sheet pulled over his waist. He looks sleepy and mildly annoyed.

“How… how much did I tell you last night?” Joseph’s voice is too quiet, but he can’t bring himself to talk any louder than that.

“Everything,” Robert replies, rubbing his hand over his face. “There’s not a dirty secret about you that I don’t know.”

Joseph’s stomach sinks. “Really?”

“No, not really.” Robert’s expression is unreadable, making it hard to know whether he’s telling the truth or not. “I know that you had a nasty fight with your wife, things haven’t been good for years, and your first kiss was with a boy named Benjamin that you met at Bible Camp when you were 13.”

Joseph stays silent, not sure what to say.

“I tried to stop you from blurting out that last one, but you’ve got the fucking loudest mouth when you’re drunk, you know that?” Robert deadpans, looking directly at Joseph.

“I don’t think I should ever drink again.” Joseph clutches his phone in one hand and his khakis in the other.

Robert fishes around in the drawer of his bedside table, pulling out a pack of Camel Wides and a lighter. He shakes out a cigarette and sticks it in his mouth, then lights it. He’s not sure why, but the action makes Joseph feel calmer.

“I think you should go home.”

Joseph doesn’t know why those words sting so much. Robert doesn’t owe him anything. They’re not friends, not lovers. They’re neighbors, nothing more.

Joseph sits on the edge of the bed, shoulders slouched and eyes fixed on a spot on the wall that looks like Robert put his fist through it once, then tried to patch it. “Mary says I’m not welcome home unless it’s to sign the divorce papers.”

Robert doesn’t say anything and there’s silence for a few minutes except for a ticking clock somewhere that seems much louder than it probably is. Joseph thinks maybe if the silence goes on, he’ll pull on his clothes and head for the yacht. Hide out for a few days. He’s supposed to show up to lead the Youth Group tomorrow morning, but he can’t bring himself to talk about God with any conviction now. He’ll just have to see if someone can cover for him.

“Jesus Christ, you’re like a kicked puppy,” Robert says. The mattress shifts like he’s standing up. “Put on your pants and let’s go get some breakfast.”

Joseph looks at the time on his phone. “It’s 3:30 in the afternoon.”

Robert claps Joseph on the back, making him jump a little. “That’s the best time to get breakfast, Pretty Boy. Let’s go.”

Joseph watches as Robert walks into the bathroom, wearing only a pair of red boxer-briefs, and then he does as he’s told, putting on his pants. His shoes take a little bit to find, tossed into two different corners of the room, but he gets them on just in time for Robert to come strolling out of the bathroom completely naked.

 _That’s not something you see every day_ , Joseph thinks, choking a little on his saliva and averting his eyes after letting his gaze linger for what feels like a little too long.

“What’s your face so red for?” Robert asks, looking completely unfazed as he walks over to his dresser and opens the top drawer. “That pair of underwear was getting rank. Time for a new pair.”

“I’m, uh, going to wait downstairs,” Joseph excuses himself, walking too fast out of the room. He takes the stairs faster than he should and sits down heavily on the second-from-bottom step when he reaches it. His face still feels hot.

The rest of Robert’s house is just as messy as his bedroom, from what Joseph can tell. There are take-out containers peppering the living room, a few trash bags by the front door that need to be taken out, and several beer cans with cigarette butts resting on the tops. It’s a shame, really, because Joseph can tell that the house would be beautiful if it was cleaned up. There are still hints of a woman’s touch here and there, decorations that he doesn’t think Robert would buy for himself.

Joseph hears Robert coming down the stairs and goes to stand up, but Robert puts his hand on Joseph’s head and pushes him back down.

“Hey!” Joseph says, watching as Robert walks out the front door.

“Hurry up or go home!” Robert calls over his shoulder.

Joseph won’t admit it later, but he hurries to catch up.

\--

“I don’t know if I like what you’re doing to those pancakes,” Joseph says with genuine concern as he watches Robert put two over easy eggs on top of his stack of pancakes and douse everything in syrup. The waitress left the food a minute ago and disappeared behind a doorway into the kitchen, but Joseph hasn’t even lifted his fork yet. His head is still throbbing, despite the four Advil he took when he woke up, and the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of him doesn’t look appealing at all to his stomach.

“I didn’t invite you to breakfast to criticize my life choices,” Robert replies, spearing the eggs with the fork to break the yolks. To make his point about how much he doesn’t care for Joseph’s opinion, he stuffs an enormous bite of egg and pancake into his mouth and groans like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Joseph smiles and sips his coffee. “Sorry.”

They share an amiable silence as Robert eats his eggy pancake monstrosity and Joseph picks at what parts of his breakfast he thinks won’t come back up. Joseph doesn’t know if he should bring up last night or not, just to see how many of the beans he spilled, if nothing else. He trusts Robert to have told the truth in the house earlier, but he still doesn’t remember much of last night.

“You want to ask me something.”

It’s not a question. Joseph looks up from his plate of food and studies Robert’s expression. He seems strangely content and friendly now that he’s demolished five pancakes, two eggs, and three cups of coffee.

Joseph opens his mouth to ask what happened last night, but Robert interrupts him.

“Consider your question very carefully, because you only get one.”

After a few seconds of thinking it over, Joseph asks, “What specifically, in full detail, happened yesterday after I walked into the bar and sat down next to you and thought it was a good idea to order two shots of tequila?”

Robert smiles, which is a rare thing that makes Joseph feel strangely warm on the inside.

“You took a shot of tequila after I did and then you ordered five more. It started off with light conversation at first about The Game and around shot number six you said that Mary wanted a divorce. It was kind of a snowball rolling downhill after that. Neil probably shoulda cut you off after nine shots, but you hold yourself together pretty well for a pretty boy Christian. For the most part.”

“I’m never, ever drinking again,” Joseph promises and takes a sip of coffee.

“Famous last words. Anyways, we got kicked out of the bar at 2 in the morning. You ate shit on the asphalt when you tried to take a couple steps. I had to basically carry you to my house because I might be an asshole but I wasn’t going to leave you to sleep on the street. We made it there somehow, crawled into my bed, and passed out.”

No wonder his knees kind of hurt. Joseph wants to ask more questions, but he can tell that Robert is done talking about it.

When Robert turns his head to look for the waitress, Joseph spots a streak of sticky syrup on his cheek. Not giving it a second thought, he dips a clean napkin into his untouched glass of water and reaches across to wipe the syrup off of Robert’s face. It’s gone in one swipe.

Robert looks at Joseph like he suddenly grew a second head.

Joseph shows him the napkin with the smear of brown syrup on it and shrugs, feeling his face get hot again. “Ah… sorry. Dad instincts.”

Robert says nothing and flags down their waitress. She comes over with their check and leaves it on the edge of the table, equal distance from the two of them. Joseph goes to reach for it, but Robert beats him to it.

“Hey sweetheart, can you take this?” Robert calls as he tosses a card on top of the receipt. Joseph doesn’t even have a chance to object before she swings back towards their table and takes the check and card away to run it.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Joseph says, feeling like the words are more sincere than they usually would be. He owes Robert a lot for getting him to a safe place to sleep after he got so obliterated. If Robert felt like it, he could’ve left Joseph outside of the bar and he would’ve ended up who knows where. But he didn’t.

Robert gives him a look that Joseph thinks means ‘Shut up, Pretty Boy.’ and the waitress comes back with the receipt and Robert’s card.

“Too sick to eat?” Robert asks as he signs his name sloppily on the receipt.

Joseph looks down at the picked-at food on his plate and nods. “I feel a little less like throwing up, but the urge is still there.”

“You want to know the best cure for a hangover?”

“What’s that?”

“Day drinking,” Robert says, face completely serious. He grabs his leather jacket from the booth and slides out of it.

It takes Joseph a moment to realize, but Robert is walking towards the door and definitely not waiting for him. He scoots out of his side of the booth and jogs after him, through the diner’s door and out onto the sidewalk.

Joseph follows Robert for a while until they come to a liquor store a few blocks from the diner. It’s the kind of place that looks like it’s been broken into multiple times, with a metal cage around the inside of the windows and a huge sign that says ‘Smile! You’re on camera. :)’.

“Wait here,” Robert says, pushing open the door to the liquor store and disappearing inside.

Joseph waits for a few minutes outside, leaning up against the side of the building. Robert doesn’t make him wait much longer than that, exiting the store with two brown paper bags in hand that are shaped around bottles. He offers one of them to Joseph.

“Come on.”

Joseph takes the bag and tries to tell what’s inside. He pulls down the side of the bag and reads the label.

_White zinfandel?_

He looks up and again he’s being left behind. After Joseph catches up with Robert, the pair walk in silence in a direction that Joseph recognizes.

“We’re going to the park?” Joseph asks.

Robert grunts, which Joseph thinks means yes, and they walk the rest of the way there at a steady pace.

“Not the park,” Robert says mysteriously once it comes into view. Joseph doesn’t argue, just follows Robert’s lead until they reach the woods.

It’s not easy to walk through the woods in loafers, but Joseph somehow manages. They walk for what feels like forever, farther than he’s ever ventured into the woods, and finally comes to a clearing with a fallen tree.

Robert sits down on the log and opens his bottle of wine, taking a long swig. Joseph sits next to him and does the same.

“White zinfandel?” Joseph asks out loud as he cracks open his bottle.

“Yeah, white zinfandel. You would’ve preferred tequila?”

Joseph’s stomach turns violently and he shakes his head. He tips back a healthy amount of wine and swallows. “No.”

“That’s what I thought. White zinfandel is fruity and refreshing, but also alcoholic. The perfect drink to tame a hangover,” Robert says, like he’s the most knowledgeable person on the subject.

Joseph admits that Robert has a point and drinks more wine. Halfway through the bottle, he’s definitely feeling better and a little buzzed. He has no idea what time it is or what’s going to happen next, but he’s not as on edge about it. Something about being around Robert makes him feel like everything will turn out alright.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Robert asks suddenly.

Joseph turns his head towards Robert and looks at him expectantly.

“See that tree stump over there? Go stand by it and scream.”

“Why should I do that?” Joseph asks, lifting the bottle of wine to his lips.

Robert takes a swig of wine and points towards the stump. “Because you’re carrying a lot of heavy shit on your shoulders and you need to let it out. The only two good ways to do that are to scream or to fuck. Trust me, I’ve had a lot of time to test different therapies.”

Joseph’s eyes go wide and he nearly chokes on the wine, but somehow manages to keep it in his mouth. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks at Robert.

“Why do I have to go over there to do it?”

“Because I don’t want you to destroy my eardrums.” Robert raises an eyebrow and Joseph agrees with a silent nod that he makes a good point.

“We’re not that far from the running trail. Someone’s going to think there’s a murder happening.”

There’s that mythical smile again, the one that Joseph feels like he’s blessed to see. His stomach does a weird flip, something he’ll worry about the reason for later. He stands up and leans his bottle of wine up against the log, reasoning with himself that maybe a little scream therapy wouldn’t hurt. He’s never tried it before.

“It’s gonna feel weird at first, but you just have to start,” Robert calls to him. The fact that Robert is watching him makes him nervous, but he’s not going to back out now.

Joseph stands there for a minute, looking out into the empty woods in front of him, and lets out a yell that seems to echo through the trees, but dies almost immediately.

“Booo! You can do better than that!”

Joseph looks over his shoulder and flips Robert a quick view of his middle finger, which makes Robert laugh. He turns back towards the trees and takes a deep breath, remembering many of the times that he sacrificed something he loved for the good of his family and no matter what, it never being good enough for Mary. The constant fighting, the sniping comments out in public and the nasty shouting matches at home, her constant judgement of his parenting and her inability to do anything without a drink in hand -- all of it’s bottled up inside of him. He can feel it, like a vile parasite, sucking the energy and happiness out of him.

Joseph opens his mouth and screams with more fury than he’s ever allowed himself to feel. He screams and screams until his lungs feel like they’re going to collapse and his throat is going to close up. When it ends, he’s shaking so hard he feels like he’s going to vibrate out of his skin and his eyes refuse to focus on anything.

A hand rests on his shoulder and squeezes it. “Feel better, Pretty Boy?”

Everything around Joseph feels electrified, the hand on his shoulder the warmest thing he’s ever felt. He turns his head towards Robert and they share a heavy look before Joseph closes the distance and kisses Robert hard.

There’s no resistance from Robert’s surprisingly plush mouth, just the hint of a wet tongue and the twining of his fingers through Joseph’s hair. Joseph takes that moment to slide his tongue between Robert’s parted lips, fisting his hands in Robert’s shirt and letting Robert guide him until his back rests against a tree.

Robert’s free hand roams under Joseph’s sweater, the palm resting flat as he explores. Joseph moans and bucks his hips when Robert flicks his thumb over a nipple, rubbing back and forth until it’s a hard nub that feels directly linked to Joseph’s cock.

Joseph puts a hand in between them and feels for Robert through his jeans, cupping the impossibly hard erection he finds between his legs and rubbing it experimentally. Their lips break apart, a string of saliva connecting them briefly before it snaps. Joseph’s hand falters, unsure if what he’s doing is right, and Robert fists his fingers in Joseph’s hair, pulling his head back so he can kiss his neck.

“Don’t stop,” Robert growls, grabbing Joseph’s hand and moving it in a circular motion over his straining erection. He sinks his teeth into the soft spot below Joseph’s jaw and Joseph shudders, unaware of the tree bark digging into him through his sweater or the fact that they could be caught at any time, he just _wants_ and _needs_ more from Robert than he even knows how to ask for.

“Robert,” Joseph says, voice breathy and desperate and broken, chest heaving like he ran a six minute mile. He doesn’t stop rubbing Robert's cock through his jeans, probably not the best thing to do if he wants to get Robert’s attention, but he doesn’t dare disappoint the man. He doesn’t want this to stop, not for anything.

Robert stops kissing Joseph’s neck and lifts his head so they can look at each other. His eyes are heat and desire and make Joseph feel like he’s the only important thing in the universe.

“Can we go to your place?”

Robert holds his gaze for a moment, then kisses Joseph briefly on the mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, we can.”


End file.
